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Who: Alisaie Leveilleur (

adelphoi) & you nerds
What: October general shenans
When: All month
Where: Everywhere potentially but probably just at her house mostly
Warning(s): Sick.. stuff?? idk probably nothing but will update if necessary.

PART 1;

a; aftermath

[ alisaie is not present in the marketplace when the attack occurs, but the resounding boom cannot be missed, even from her home flat. it's a hectic hour or so while she rushes to figure out what has happened, and when riza returns home sick she feels a heavy misgiving sink deep into her stomach. disease is not an enemy she can fight with her rapier, it's something insidious, something sneaky and unpredictable - gods help them find a remedy soon.

immediately, she's dashing right to work. with riza ill they'll need supplies - healthy foods, spare blankets, medicinal herbs, ice, a great deal of ice. once she's set with her list she's off to the institute and markets to gather what useful things she can, stuffing them into a canvas shoulder bag, but you can certainly bet that she'll stop to assist in any way she can, whether it's righting an overturned cart or leading those who were injured in the panic to the sanctuary.

of course, it's not long before she's feeling rather warm and dizzy herself and, of course, chalking it up to the rush and mayhem. maybe she'll just.. sit down a moment. ]

b; sickbed;

[ alisaie is an awful patient.

keeping her in bed is no easy task, and there's an itch under her skin that urges her to move, to work - there's so much she could be doing, ways she could be helping. this disease is a godsdamned prison.

she's responsible enough to at least not mingle with the public, lest she spread this horrible mystery illness further, but she cannot remain strictly indoors in bed for so long, not without losing her mind. so when she can, when the weather is tepid, alisaie sits on the second floor deck of her flat, wrapped up in a blanket, usually with a book (or stack of books), enjoying the fresh air on her too-hot face. ]

c; reaching out

[ what else can you do when you're more or less bedbound? catch up on the internet, of course. mostly, alisaie keeps an eye on the network for any updates, and takes the time to reach out to those she knows, to doublecheck that they're safe. if you've met her even once or twice, chances are she will toss a line out and test the waters. incoming message from RedMage: ]

This is Alisaie; how are you faring?

PART 2;

a; wandering

[ it's late evening the first time she sees him.

though first she hears him, the familiar voice of her grandfather calling her out of her dreams, warm and welcoming. she wakes in her bed, slick with fever sweat and surrounded by silence - mayhaps she had misheard it? it must have been a dream, her head is spinning. but then it comes again, distinct and clear; it has been years since she last heard his voice but it is not a sound that she would ever forget. ]

Grandfather..?

[ dizzy and disoriented, she climbs out of bed and stumbles toward the open window, squinting into the slanting light of sunset just in time to see the shape of him, louisoix leveilleur's all too familiar form disappearing around the corner. immediately her heart kicks up into her throat and alisaie gasps and turns, stumbling back through her bedroom and out of the house, down the stairs and onto the street barefoot, in her nightdress, to follow a ghost. ]

No, please wait.. don't leave me again..

[ how long she wanders in this delirium she cannot say, but her feet are sore and scratched and muddy, her hair down and wild from sleep and the tugging winds. she may run right into you, or trip over a flagstone, but short of forceful intervention nothing will keep her from her goal. ]

b; friendly fire

[ for those of you unlucky enough to visit her (or stop by her home for some other purpose) while the symptoms continue to worsen, you will find that her delirium has not abated. between bouts of lucidity and sleep she tries still to wander, to follow the voices and phantoms of her family and friends to whatever oblivion they might call her to, but it is not only friends she sees. sometimes it is enemies or horrible, twisted monsters. it's hardly a problem if she wanders outside, weaponless, but any creak of sound within her home would easily alert her.

blinking blearily, alisaie tumbles out of bed at the noise, her heart thudding and her mind cloudy, and she does not think twice before taking up her rapier and focus which lie across a chair in her room and stumbling into the dimly lit common area. her voice is rough from coughing. ]

Who.. who goes there?

[ catchall for october! alisaie will spent much of it being sick, apparently, so feel free to crash her place and visit.. make sure she stays in bed. get her texts or send her one, or meet up in the market!! if none of these prompts work for you i'm more than happy to work something out and write up a starter. ♥ plotting comment is here, or i can be reached on plurk for planning. i'm game! ]

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[He'll go ahead and set that up, then. He opens the bag and arranges them on the plate he'd brought. There are about five in total, so she's free to help herself.]

It's the least I can do for a friend that's under the weather. [Maybe that's putting it too positively? He sets out a cold bottle of milk as well. He would've sprung for tea, but...bakeries.] I haven't had much time to talk to the sick myself. The Guard seems intent on exhausting all my energy these days.

[ it's certainly a cold day in hells when alisaie is too sick, too weary to be concerned with her pride. what little energy she has must be devoted to moving, to breathing, to maintaining consciousness and finding a smile for him, and it's a hard truth but one she is coming to accept now, after a hard month, a month that has grown more and more difficult with each passing day. she's worn down. she's tired in ways she could never have thought possible. so she asks for help because she must, even if the look in his clear eyes is breaking her heart. ]

I think so.

[ she'd managed to stumble in here on her own, after all, difficult though it was. so she will have to manage again. the momentary pain will at least be preferable to sleeping in her own sweat and blood.

it takes a great deal of effort to stand and her joints rail in protest, pain like white-hot knives sinking into her bones. it makes her breathless, and she's pale as ash by the time she's on her feet, every exhale a sharp, agonized rattle. it feels as if she's falling apart slowly, pieces of her chipped away over weeks, her body and mind deteriorating and she is too exhausted even to be afraid anymore. there is nothing more that could possibly be worse than this, they are already living in the future they had been terrified for, what is left to be frightened of?

with her hands clasped to prompto's shoulders for support, alisaie wavers where she stands until her head stops spinning and the pain settles again, though she knows each step forward will be a study of torment, there's little enough to be done for it. ]

[ That's not the euphemism he wants in his life ]

I'm taking it easy just like the doctor ordered. I'm doing Great. Ish. As good as I can be while sick is what I mean.

[ He moves with her, even conscious of her comfort, of every sign of pain that flickers across her face, of every shifting joint and how it must ache. When such a simple thing as walking to the bathroom becomes an insurmountable task, looking ahead seems Herculean, even taboo. How much longer could they keep this up?

But he can't let himself think that way - or, at the very least, he can't give her any further reason to be in pain. The idea of her worrying on his behalf right now is laughable. How could he spend even a fraction of a moment thinking about his own feelings when she's like this? He can't, so he sets his jaw as they move, slowly but surely, to the bathroom. ]

That's it. Nice 'n' easy. [ His voice is soft, but it doesn't waver, and he reaches into the tub to start the shower running warm. ]

...Mind if I join you? Horses, uh...stink. Literally and figuratively.

[ He smiles lopsidedly at her, lifting his hand to her cheek to wipe flecks of blood from the corners of her mouth. Gods, what a pair they make. ]

[ Catching wind of everyone in Olympia moving from there to Wyver is, despite everything happening, is a blessing. Sometime after she had left with the small group of runaways that had formed with a mix of fugitives and friends she had found out that the number of people falling ill had multiplied. And while she saw it coming from a mile away considering Alisaie had been taking care of Riza, she'd much rather shoulder that pain instead.

It worsens when she meets with other bedridden individuals who had been hit with the illness. Her anxiety builds in her stomach and blatant concern is expressed on her features with curved brows and eyes that perfectly reflected the sympathy residing in the chambers of her heart. Even if she was not behind this attack and was foolishly roped into it to be burdened with the blame it hurts that there was the strong possibility that she could have stopped this.

It's all that she can think when she's at Alisaie's bedside. Biting her bottom lip as she laces her features with seems to be neutrality, though knowing Leanne, a girl who wears her emotions on her sleeve, she's unable to simply ignore when the symptoms appear and there's evident pain coursing through the girl's veins. Reaching out she grabs onto her hand, lacing fingers and allowing her to find a sense of security within their grasp. ]

Alisaie.

[ Her voice is soft in attempts to continue concealing the fear in her voice. ]

Breathe, Alisaie. Slowly. [ But for the love of God just keep breathing. ] I'm here. It'll be okay.

[ SOMEHOW... UGH. ]

[ she'd never thought the day would come when a ten yalm trip feels like a victory, yet here we are. ]

I.. think that's a wise idea.

[ she'd been considering it even before he'd asked; at a time like this, passing out or losing her footing in the shower could be an absolute disaster, and tired as he is she can't help but need his steadying hand. a bath might be safer, but it would take longer, and she would absolutely fall asleep submerged in warm water.

speaking of warm water - the steam alone is enticing, and fevered though she is the heat will no doubt feel lovely to her aching bones. undressing seems as difficult a task as getting to the bathroom had, but she slowly, carefully begins to manage it nonetheless. ]

You are looking a bit ripe.

[ clearly brink of death sickness can't keep her from throwing shade. ]

[ It's simply too good to hear her make that jab in the first place that he can't even pretend to be affronted by it, the other side of his mouth tugging up with a huff of laughter as he tugs his shirt over his head. Look, he's not even blushing as he undresses this time! It's either a testament to how normal this has become, or to how tired he is. Maybe it's a little bit of both. But either way, he carefully helps her with her clothing, ever watchful of the pain written into her very bones. ]

Hey, some of us didn't get ferried over on gryphons like total badasses. I had to ride a poor man's chocobo. They're not fluffy at all...

[ How easy it is to fall back into their usual rapport, even as he shucks off the rest of his clothing into a crumpled pile so he can focus on attending to her, holding onto her elbow to steady her. Even as his gaze lingers not on her scars, but on the blood under her fingernails. For her to be bleeding like this...

No. He can't think like that. ]

[ keeping up their playful banter is all she can do to feel even relatively normal at this point. it's the only comfort they can both find right now, one she's all too ready to give.

his steadying hands are a blessing though, and make it worlds easier for her to step out of her clothing without stumbling. getting into the shower is a bit more of a struggle, considering the high step up, but with her hands grasping to his arms she manages. ]

How terrible for you. My gryphon was very fluffy.

[ she was like a majestic eagle soaring through the skies and bleeding from her face ]

[ He holds her steady as she steps into the shower, following after as soon as she has her footing. He steps in, and the warm water hitting his skin feels miraculous, a godsend. Funny how something so simple can feel so instantly renewing, refreshing. He can't even imagine how it must feel for her.

A quiet, exhausted sigh escapes him, his chest falling as he allows himself one moment to close his eyes against how utterly tired he is. That's another thing he's just going to have to...deal with. With her being in the state that she is now, her condition steadily getting worse and worse, how could he even think to allow himself to rest? At any moment, things could change, things could get worse, and he isn't going to just sleep through that.

So he opens his eyes again, still smiling wearily, adoringly, at her. ]

Still not as cute as a chocobo, but definitely an improvement over a horse. I know that makes me sound like...a neigh-sayer, but it's true.

[ rly, now of all times ]

[ it feels perfect, is how it feels. like prompto, alisaie takes a few moments to simply appreciate it, to feel the hot water beating down against her battered body like a soothing massage. when you're aching deep in your bones there really is nothing quite like a hot shower or bath.

turning away with her back toward him, alisaie tips up her chin to let the water run over her face, softening all of that lovely crusted blood. ]

This unbridled disdain for horses seems uncalled for, if you ask me. They are perfectly lovely animals.

[ why this, why now, in the year of our lord 2k17 prompto does this ]

[ That gets a smile, at least. ]

Is there anything I can do for you? Aside from cookie delivery, of course.

[ HONK goes one of the baby dragons in the background. ]

[ you're a man after her own heart, gaius. ill or not, she's not too sick to turn down sweetcakes fresh from the bakery. she's careful not to touch the other pastries while picking out what appears to be a cherry one, so as not to contaminate the lot with DISEASE. ]

I believe it. My, um -

[ immediately she flushes pink right to her hairline, looking abashed. ]

B-boyfriend - [ SHE SAID IT, she said the word, it was so hard to spit out. she's floundering, be kind, gaius... ] - is a member of the Guard as well, he's been working very hard.

[ too bad thats what boyfriend stealers deserve ]

Well that's good to hear. Be sure to keep yourself hydrated.

[ there's so very much to be worried about that she can hardly keep track of it all anymore. riza is in terrible shape, leanne is vanished, prompto is working himself to the bone and alisaie - alisaie is this, reduced to pain and blood and dependence. it's awful, and terrifying, and it's been all she could do to hold herself together against it, to keep moving forward, one step at a time, even though it's getting harder and harder to look for the light at the end of the tunnel.

but when leanne shows up at last it's one thing to cross off the list of innumerable worries.

apologies, friend, that she is not looking.. better for your grand reappearance. alisaie's skin is ashen, save where it's flushed with fever. she's thin and exhausted and the blood won't stop - thin trickles of it from her eyes and nose and ears, not uncontrollable, but constant enough that it's stained her hair and the collar of her nightdress. the pain is the worst of it though, like hot knives driven through her very bones, the slightest movement or pressure a spark of agony.

that doesn't stop her from cracking a weary smile for leanne, however, and squeezing her hand as tightly as she can which, admittedly, is not very much. what's left of her voice is a croak, but she sounds awfully relieved. ]

I'm.. so glad to see you. You worried me, you little brat.

[ **SHARER rhys shares ]

I literally told you that like five minutes ago you know.

[ Once she turns her back to him and he's sure she isn't about to collapse, he lifts his hands to run through his hair. There's no doubt this is refreshing, but he also knows as soon as he steps out of the shower he'll want to fall straight to sleep, and - he can't do that. Not with the condition she's in now.

So maybe they can just...stay in here for awhile, soaking up the steam, trying, for a moment, to find something normal to cling to. ]

Guess I got saddled with that opinion when one of 'em bucked me to the ground. I'm gonna have a sore tailbone for weeks!

[ he does this because THEY NEED IT ]

[ after a few moments of water streaming down her face, alisaie rubs both hands over it to wash the blood away. it's hardly of much use, considering the slow but constant flow, but it still feels good to get it off of her skin, at least for now, and to clear it away from her eyes. ]

Truly?

[ there's an attempt made at a laugh, and it's kind of pathetic and makes her dizzy, but it's nice to smile nonetheless. ]

I suppose the beast made an ass of you. Would that I had been there to see it.

[ shampoo pls ]

[ Maybe it's her joke, maybe it's the sound of her own laugh, however slight, that has a true, honest one gusting out from deep in his chest. It feels so good to laugh so earnestly and yet it's bittersweet how few and far between their laughs have been the past few weeks. It's enough for tears to press at the corner of his eyes, for his laugh to peter into a hiccuping sob he tries to pass off as a cough. ]

...Don't worry, I-I - I took some pics anyway. I can catch you up on all the mane events of the trip...

[ But much of the levity is gone from his voice.

He squeezes a bit of the shampoo into his palm and passes it off to her. ]

[ SIGH.
Nhaama save her from wayward children. Sadu gives the empty road a disgusted look, clearly expecting to see some very irresponsible parent ~~dadcat this is your fault~~. ]

Oh very well. If I must.

[ Pause. ]

But only after returning you to your home.

[ he tries to hide it but alisaie knows him too well, knows his mind and his heart, knows how tired he is, how difficult all of this has been, the toll it has taken. it makes her heart ache with a pressure that tightens her throat.

she needs to turn toward him again in order to wet her hair, but it gives her the opportunity to look up into his face again, to touch him. he passes her the shampoo but after a moment's consideration she sets it aside again and reaches instead to take his hand, the one with the shampoo in it, so she can scrape it into her own palm instead.

and then she's rubbing it between her hands and lifting them to his hair to gently, steadily work it through. there's something very.. comforting about this, about the casual intimacy of bathing with someone you trust absolutely, someone you can be so completely vulnerable with.

but she doesn't offer an answer. the will to joke has bled out of her again. ]

[ It's a horrifying sight, one she's never seen before in her years of sheltered living, but despite that she doesn't shy away from looking at Alisaie. Perhaps if she were the person she was once the guilt would consume her whole, leaving her sick to her own stomach and unable to stay at the side of her friend. But fortunately enough she's strong enough to stay. Even as tears begin to prick at the corners of her eyes. ]

I'm sorry...

[ She brings her other free hand to grip onto hers. Leaning forward to press their mess of laced fingers along her fringe and forehead. ]

I'm so sorry. To have kept you waiting, for not getting back sooner, you... [ Leanne is doing everything that she can to keep herself from crying outright. But it proves difficult and she only barely cracks open her eyes to catch the other's gaze. ] I'm not going to let you down. Not again.

[ Thanks in no small part to his fatigue, to how swollen his thoughts are with fear, it takes him a moment to realize what she's doing, taking the shampoo out of his hand, until she's lifting her hands to his hair, his chest tightening and his eyebrows lifting as he understands. ]

Alisaie...

[ It's not a protest, not quite, but there's so much else mingled in the way he says her name for how it's little more than a whisper. It's a gesture so tender, so intimate, that he tips his head down, eyes falling shut against the tears he'd tried so hard to keep at bay.

It's no use. The tears slip out anyway, unbidden, rolling down his cheeks and mingling with the shower water as his shoulders shake. If he could say something, he would - but he's too full for words. Full of pain, full of exhaustion, full of fear, yes. But also full of love, blinding and unyielding, a thing far too great and beautiful for him to fully comprehend. It's such a simple thing, her fingers working the shampoo into his hair, and yet, it isn't simple.

Not at all. ]

[ it breaks her heart to see his expression crumple like that and yet it's satisfying as well. he's trying to hard to stay strong, she knows, and while he may need to maintain that for others, for his comrades in the guard and those he's helping on the streets, he need not do it for her. his company alone keeps her strong and supported, and while she loves his smiles, what she loves more is his simple.. presence, the knowledge that he's here, that she can hear his voice and feel his warmth and smell his skin. that's all she needs. mayhaps in time he'll learn that completely, but until he does she's more than happy to show him, to help him unwind whenever and however she can.

for now she maintains the silence. there's only this space between them, the heat and steam and the sound of beating water. her fingers work gently thorough his hair, rubbing deep into it, over and along his scalp in circular, soothing movements.

and while she works she carefully pulls his face down to her level, and she presses kisses to his cheeks, over his tears and the rolling water, first his right cheek then his left, crossing the bridge of his freckled nose and up to his brow. all she needs to say is there in her kisses, each one warm and soft and lingering, and in the slow gentle workings of her fingers through his hair. ]

[ It aches, but it feels so good, too - to let his emotions spill out while she massages her fingers across his scalp, and kisses his face so tenderly that a fresh hiccup of sobs wracks his shoulders. He doesn't deserve this, no matter how battered and weary he might be, but it's still so intimate and welcome that he never thinks to stop her.

Because this isn't just for him. When they're close like this, communicating perfectly without ever uttering a word, it's easy to forget that that separation exists - that they aren't just one whole, two parts that fit together so well that it's a wonder how he ever lived without her in his life. He lifts his hands to her face, thumbs gently gliding over her cheeks, willing this moment to never end, even for as much as it hurts so exquisitely.

But the water is so cleansing, just as these tears. ]

[ her heart bleeds for him, but it's so cathartic that she can't help but encourage it, to keep up with the slow, soft kisses and her fingers in his hair until it's all sudsed up from root to tip.

gods, what she would not give to kiss him properly, to draw his mouth to hers and kiss his breath away until neither of them can think about anything but how it feels. it's been so long she hardly remembers what his mouth feels like, his taste a distant, fading memory and in this moment with a clutch of fear she can't help but wonder if she will ever know it again. the cure is in the works but there's no saying how long it might take, and she was sick within hours of the bomb's drop, among the first wave of the infected. there's no guarantee that the cure will come quickly enough to save her. it's advancing so quickly, it's becoming harder and harder to stay awake, she's bleeding, she's hurting, she's dying.

but for now.. for now she pushes back those thoughts and slips her arms over his shoulders, holding him near, burying her face against his neck and trailing kisses there. ]

It's all right, love.

[ she whispers, nuzzling warmly at the juncture of his jaw. ]

You're home, now.

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hey it's time for the girlfriends to cry together

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im so here for this!!

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